Buddy Bear

I’d like to introduce you all to my new foster Buddy.


Buddy is a staffordshire bull terrier aged 8 years old. He was taken in by The Senior Staffy Club last year and was covered in scars with his ear also hanging off. Unfortunately it was discovered that he was used as dog bait. Luckily he was  safe and got his ear stitched back on and placed into foster as he didn’t cope well in kennels.

In mid April it was decided that Buddy would be leaving his foster to come and stay with me as she had to work away quite a bit. When Buddy arrived he was very excitable and wanted to explore all of the rooms. He settled fairly quickly and soon became acquainted with his comfy bed. In general Buddy will enjoy a snooze in his designated spot which tends to be by the front door here. Considering what he has been through he is ever so trusting. He thrives off appraisal and will happily obey commands.

A little about Buddy:

Buddy is like most dogs – he loves food. It’s become habit to put food out of reach and to keep the pantry door shut at all times. He will also try anything. I’ve had to move my bird feeding station a little higher as he’s already eaten the suet and seeds!

He’s very intelligent. Who said you can’t teach an old dog tricks? Well, Buddy learnt sit and paw in minutes. He’s currently learning ‘down’ and has done very well although sometimes his bottom stays in the air! He will listen to any commands and obey them. He soon realised that by throwing his Kong on the floor the treats would fly out!

He absolutely adores having his belly rubbed to the point that he will drop at your feet for one! He loves being stroked especially his belly, ears and face. He will sit perfectly still when being groomed too!

We discovered on our walk along the canal recently that he also loves to swim! He was tugging on the lead to go near the water so we put him on his long lead and off he went!

Buddy does have a little separation anxiety but he’s progressing with it and I can definitely see him getting more confidence and ability to be alone. He’s not keen on other dogs but will walk past them with no bother as long as they don’t pester him. He’s very strong on the lead but with some training he will walk OK.

He loves the garden bench! He has his own bedding on there so he can relax. He loves rolling in the grass and doing zoomies back and forth!

Overall Buddy is a very loving dog that just wants to some cuddles and affection. He’s easily pleased and will often snooze the day away out on the garden bench if the weather is nice. He enjoys chewing up the ball when playing fetch and loves to chase cats! He sleeps straight through the night with no issues. He fits into a routine but also likes to stick with that routine, he knows when we go walkies and will vocally express his eagerness to get walking 🙂


I’ve set up an instagram for the foster dogs that you can visit here: itsaseniorstaffieslife

A Spoonful of Energy Please?

The spoon theory is a disability metaphor used to explain the reduced amount of energy available for activities of daily living and productive tasks that may result from disability or chronic illness. Spoons are a tangible unit of measurement used to track how much energy a person has throughout a given day. Each activity requires a given number of spoons, which will only be replaced as the person “recharges” through rest. A person who runs out of spoons has no choice but to rest until their spoons are replenished – Wikipedia


Tonight I’m going to discuss the term ‘spoons’ in Autism and how it affects me. I wasn’t aware of such term to describe energy consumption until a few years ago but it’s been very helpful since. I’ve finally been able to refer to the theory of spoons when explaining to people my reasons for feeling exhausted after completing minuscule tasks. I’ve noticed that Autistic people tire easily because so many of our actions are attained with mental energy as well as physical exertion, making the spoons theory for us, very easy to associate with.

When I was younger I had heaps of energy. I loved keeping fit, going out clubbing and hanging out with my friends, although it did tire me out and made the next day almost impossible to cope with, but I was able to achieve more. I can’t say the same for today. It seems with age I’m finding it extremely hard to push myself into doing the simple things others wouldn’t even spare a thought for.

Since being in a relationship with someone who is constantly on the go it’s become blatantly obvious I lack the drive and energy of a healthy person. I almost felt guilty in the early stages of our relationship. I would force myself to attend concerts, dine at restaurants and socialise with his friends and family (who I love) but would suffer and recuperate for days after. Luckily, he understands (after explaining the spoon theory) and goes out of his way to make sure I’m not using too many spoons.

So, for me at the moment with my depressive state, I have 10 spoons per day. The hardest spoon for me to use and probably always has been, is showering/brushing teeth first thing in the mornings. I’m an insomniac anyway so struggle to find any motivation to wake up in the first place. I’ve always found the idea of washing a chore, I’ve no idea why but it really feels like an obstruction I constantly have to fight just to take on my day. I use 2 spoons on my daily walk with my foster dog. I choose quiet rural locations purposely to avoid people which adds more spoons. It takes 3 spoons to prepare meals. I love cooking but do find it tiresome. Socialising on the phone with my mum and seeing my friends uses 1 spoon as I find it easy/relaxing to be in their company. The rest of my spoons are usually spent on being around people (crowded places etc.) and tidying up etc.

I guess you’re now wondering how I use spoons when doing certain activities or travelling? Well, Will helps out on those days by cooking our meals, walking the dog and tidying up. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s been amazing.

There are times when I use more spoons than permitted a day. On the odd occasion of this happening I tend to sleep for hours more the next day and avoid doing anything that exerts energy. This can go on for days depending on how many spoons went over. It’s not just tiredness that’s affected, I become very moody and hungry which can result in overeating to ‘sooth’ the crappy feelings that come with it.

Recently I’ve felt so deflated realising my lack of energy is preventing me from achieving so much in life. I often have days when I feel an increase and have several ideas that can change my life and make me happier but the next day I’m lethargic and the thought alone uses a damn spoon!

I hope this post has raised a little awareness. I’m not great at this sort of thing at the moment with a cluttered mind but if it can help some understand that just because some of us can’t give ourselves to something doesn’t mean we’re unworthy of it, we just haven’t got the energy to accomplish it at the time. I’ve been beating myself up for too long knowing I have the potential to achieve in life and feel proud of myself but lack the energy to do so. I’m sure in time I’ll tidy the mess in my brain and things will fall into place.



Useful spoon theory links:



Journal Entry – 01/03/2017


This past week has been a horrendous one. My hormones were all over the place, I’ve had a migraine for a week and I’m having to deal with the constant dread of my foster dog potentially leaving on the weekend! I haven’t even managed to think a positive thought. Tonight I feel a little wobbly. I keep trying to distract my thoughts from my foster leaving me but find myself getting anxious. I hate people seeing me cry and I know I’ll be a blubbering mess.

The migraine situation has been driving me near suicidal. It’s no joke. The pain can be excruciating and more often than not I can’t think of anything more soothing than knocking myself out until it’s over with. Anyway, my GP prescribed me some new meds to try which I put off for a week (I hate relying on meds) and had to admit defeat and take the pills. I’m three days in and haven’t had a migraine so my fingers and toes are firmly crossed!

To make matters worse, we’ve had some roofers and builders in to fit our new roof. To be honest they’re sound guys but I hate having people here. I can’t settle, my life’s quite literally put on hold until they’ve completed the job and moved on. All I want to do is relax and have some peace and quiet but I panic and end up making them sausage sandwiches!

Moving on, I spoke with my therapist on Monday and she’s decided that I take a three month break. I need to get my migraines under control and gain some balance with my behavioural activation, which in all honesty, hasn’t been great since losing my gran. I actually felt relieved that it was coming to an end. I was finding myself becoming anxious before sessions and there wasn’t much light on my part. I was on my 16th session and still felt the reasons for my depression hadn’t been approached, although my mood had improved, it was obvious the darkness would still find it’s way back into my life without closure on my past.

I really need to try my hardest to get myself back on the stable track and maintain ‘life’. I know what I have to do it’s just a matter of picking myself up and out of the comforts and pushing myself into tasks that I’d usually avoid. I’m still planning my sponsored walk and have bought two cameras to get myself out of the house and experiment more with the hobby I enjoy.

Life really is a labyrinth which I was once lost in but I’ll stay believing that it’s the mystery that keeps it exciting.

If you have a few moments please swing by sweetandsawah ‘s blog. Such a lovely woman who inspires me with her ambitious mentality. Love & Hugs.


Growing Up With Biracial Parents




Today I want to tell you about my life growing up with a Filipino mother and an English father. I read an article earlier this afternoon about biracial parents and what the children could experience growing up. It brought back a lot of memories as I was able to relate to many of the issues listed.

My mother is very beautiful. She’s one of the most warmest and genuine people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. It hurts me to see her greet strangers when walking down the street to see them give her a blank stare yet she doesn’t care. She doesn’t greet people for gratitude or validation, she’s a good person, and does so with genuine intention of warm greetings.

My father was an attractive man before he was run down with depression and became sleep deprived. When my mother married him (26 years ago) they were an attractive couple together, although he’s covered in tattoos and in the Filipino culture a man with tattoos has likely served a prison sentence. My mother saw through that and fell in love with my father and they’re still happily married to this very day.

My mother started working in the U.K as soon as she moved here. She has never once claimed any benefits even though she could qualify for them as she worked less than 16 hours. My father has worked all of his life too until recently. He had a stroke in 2008 which affected his work ability a few years ago resulting in early retirement.

From what I remember I had a comfortable life when I was young. We were far from rich but my father was self employed and doing well at the time. He used to spoil me when I was younger. He’d surprise me with a puppy or a new bike and made sure I was the happiest girl on Christmas Day. My mother was also a generous person surprising me  little sentimental gifts and always put me first.

My mother is the greatest mother of all time. She has been my biggest support network through my depression and Asperger’s Syndrome. She attended all my appointments and helped in any way she could to make my life easier. I remember only ever being babysat twice in my life, she never left my side and took me everywhere if needed. She always made sure I was fed, clothed and happy, and that I was.

My father and I have a different bond. We used to be very close when I was young and less hormonal. When I hit adolescence and had to face secondary school I completely changed from the quiet shy girl to the loud, aggressive opinionated teenager. He didn’t seem to handle my sudden bursts of anger and irritation at the slightest thing. I wasn’t diagnosed with autism until the age of 22 so now I understand why he struggled with me without knowing the hell I was going through.

So there’s a little history for you, now I’ll talk about other people’s opinions on my parents’ marriage.

In all honestly I didn’t even realise the difference in race. Mum was mum and dad was dad. It was that simple. Yet other people would stare and have their own ideas about my parents’ relationship. I remember a friend of mine once spoke about my parents (not to my face obviously) discussing my innocent mother. She seemed to believe my mother was a prostitute (purely based on the fact she’s Asian). I can’t even comment on that because I’ve never heard anything so absurd. Considering mother’s a catholic I found it very disrespectful and coming from the person herself, found it quite ironic.

My own friends would discuss my race. They believed I should of ‘acted’ more ‘English’ and pay more attention to my father’s side of the family. I found it hilarious that a human could actually sit there and discuss my ethnic origin and care that much about my personal life. I on the other hand lived a life never giving a thought to the fact I was mixed race, I was just being myself and that caused my friends to feel angry. I had my own issues that I never once discussed with my friends so I found the whole conversation (that was also said behind my back) amusing.

I personally was targeted racially from a young age. I had one young boy comment on my mother’s mole and the colour of her skin. I vividly remember several people taunting me with racist words. It disgusts me that children were even aware of such horrific words. Luckily my father taught me self defense from a young age as he practiced jiu jitsu. I now know that he was protecting me from the expected racial abuse.

Within the last 4 years I’ve discovered racism really does exist (yes, I was oblivious of my light brown skin for many years as colour doesn’t define anyone). I have had men tut at me when I hold hands with my partner (because he’s Caucasian). I’ve been on the receiving end of dirty looks and have even been lucky enough to receive racist verbal diarrhoea from a ‘friend’ of mine but what hurts the most is coming to the realisation that racism seems to apply almost everywhere. Now I say that lightly, not to be taken too seriously but yes, I hear it in the disgusting derogatory words to describe someone of race and the  nasty looks from those less educated.

It’s a shame. I remember living a peaceful life along with a stressful one. I wasn’t bothered by people and if anything didn’t pay a thought to those around me. I was happy in my little bubble unaware of the darkness that was awaiting me in time to come. I used to feel anger and resentment towards racists but now I try to understand that it’s due to being uneducated and the way people can be brought up.

I am very proud of my parents for standing by each other and teaching me to understand the value of money, life and love. They’re like any normal couple and shouldn’t be judged because they fell in love no matter where they come from. We live in an accepting modern age where people should embrace life and not stress or worry over a biracial couple.

I’m happy to be taught valuable life lessons from different cultures and be able to see life with an open mind. My parents never smothered me and never once tried to fix potential mistakes. They spoke openly about every topic under the sun which has now given me a broad mind full of imagination and a tough exterior that can handle any abuse aimed at me. I’m so proud of them and they should be proud of themselves. So it’s silly to judge anyone on their differences. There’s so much more to life than the colour of someone’s skin or their gender or sexuality. Life can be simple if you let it be. Learn to accept with kindness and free your body of hate, it can kill you 🙂


Love conquers all…

There’s Nothing Better or Worse

There’s nothing better than feeling superior because you feel different from any other person on the planet yet there’s nothing worse than feeling alienated because you can’t relate to these people.

There’s nothing better than waking up and making no effort with your hair and make up. Throwing on the loose fitted clothing to feel comfortable and free yet there’s nothing worse than feeling center of attention of the questioning eyes for dressing in such way.

There’s nothing better than having a creative mind and dreaming of many ways you could become successful yet there’s nothing worse than failing to organise your thoughts neatly to put these ideas in motion.

There’s nothing better than craving a love so deeply and being lucky enough to experience it yet there’s nothing worse than discovering love isn’t always what you imagined it would be and there’s going to be some fight to refresh the spark.



Lately I’ve noticed my mind’s been ticking over and over the hundreds of possibilities only to feel deflated moments or days later. I seem to find myself in the same position day after day because each positive thought is quickly pushed to the back of my mind with that nasty negativity.

I’m starting to wonder if I’ve ever led a happy life. Depression has completely taken over for so long it feels almost normal for me to lead such an unstable life. I often wonder if everyone else is ever really completely happy? Is there such thing? I’m losing all hope in myself and really struggle with this so called light at the end of the tunnel.

I believe that life can be pretty simple. Lead a life with good intentions and appreciate the goodness you receive, lead a life with bad intentions and expect the negative energy you could receive. I’m left wondering why I can’t seem to iron out the messy pattern of thought in my mind and picture everything clearly and easily so I can achieve something and feel human for once?